


The Four Points of a Dying Star

by Oriki-Miitad (Sneaking_UnicornWitch)



Series: Oriki's Codywan Week 2020 submissions [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Codywan Week, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mando'a, Not Beta Read, cody needs a break, post-Malevolence arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneaking_UnicornWitch/pseuds/Oriki-Miitad
Summary: Cody gets a hug.OR“They’ll be okay, Commander.”Cody looks up from the floor, and just about manages to make eye contact with his General, though it quickly slides off in favour of looking somewhere in the region of his breastplate. He’s folded himself uncomfortably against the wall of his office, lights off, still trying to get his breathing under control, wet tracks on his cheeks though no longer crying.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Oriki's Codywan Week 2020 submissions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854682
Comments: 16
Kudos: 181
Collections: Codywan Week, Codywanweek 2020





	The Four Points of a Dying Star

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Codywan Week 2020 day 1. Prompt:Hurt/Comfort. Setting is post-Malevolence arc, and the theme is hurt/comfort, so there's angst but it's off-screen. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here](https://oriki-miitad.tumblr.com/), come say hi!

“They’ll be okay, Commander.”

Cody looks up from the floor, and just about manages to make eye contact with his General, though it quickly slides off in favour of looking somewhere in the region of his breastplate. He’s folded himself uncomfortably against the wall of his office, lights off, still trying to get his breathing under control, wet tracks on his cheeks though no longer crying. 

He’d felt sick in the briefing, couldn’t believe the reports that had come out of the Abregado system, the reports of the  _ four, four of them _ , the only survivors. Out of the hundreds of  _ vode _ aboard the Triumphant, only Commander Wolffe, two of his sergeants, and their  _ jetii _ had survived. Hearing his squadmate, his big brother, describe what they’d all gone through just hours before was heart-breaking. He could see that Wolffe hadn’t yet really dealt with the events yet, was just going through the motions. He’d looked so small over the holovid, and when his voice had broken, when Master Koon had taken over, he’d just melted back next to Boost and Sinker. 

Cody had stayed for the briefing, had made himself stand and listen, sure of his need to show Wolffe that there were  _ vode _ there for him. But once it was over, and the Admiral had drawn Kenobi into a conversation about General Skywalker and Padawan Tano he’d left without a goodbye and hurried to his office. He’d struggled not to break down in the corridor, muting his bucket so none of the men would hear him through the vocoder. 

And so he’d sat in the dark for stars-know how long, helmet abandoned near his knee. He’d failed his  _ vode _ . What was the point in his role if he wasn’t able to protect his people, his brothers, his squadmates. 

“There was nothing you could have done, Cody.”

Kenobi stands in the door, silhouetted against the bright light from the hallway. He takes the few short steps towards him, now barely more than an arm’s reach away. Cody’s not sure he can breach the gap, no matter how much he wants to. Hearing Wolffe talk about the emptiness outside the pod, nothing to protect him from space, not even his armour. He’s felt so  **alone** . He longs for the easy bumps and shoves from his squad, hates that now as  Marshall Commander Cody the  _ vode _ tend to keep their distance. He knows it’s something all of the command team struggle with. Once his General’s gone he might comm Rex, get him to check on Wolffe, ask if he’d like a sp- but no, Wolffe will want to be with his ‘pack and make sure that his boys are doing okay. 

It was General Kenobi who opened the door, but from the posture and expression it’s Obi-Wan who settles to the floor beside him, knocking their pauldrons together. He’s glad, needing the comfort of his  _ cyare _ rather than his General. 

Another knock to the side, a reaching tendril caresses against his mind, and he’s lost again, lost in the fear that he’ll never be good enough for his partner or his brothers. He’s run out of tears, out of sobs, just heaving gulps of air, shoulders shaking like he’s trying to physically expel it. A hand on his lower back rubs gently and it’s almost like he can feel it despite the plastoid. He’s suddenly hit with the urge for contact, twists as much as he can at the hips in full armour and slumped on the floor, touching his forehead against Obi-Wan’s. They hold the keldabe for a long time, sharing breaths, and eventually Cody pulls away. “ _ Vor entye. _ ”

“My dear, Cody, I’ll always be here for you,” Obi-Wan said softly, “and as trite as it may sound, I am so sorry about the 104th. Did you know many of them well?”

“Only Wolffe, really. My squadmate. He’d spoken about a couple of promising troopers, but we’d not been on-planet anywhere at the same time to meet. Too late now, I guess.”

Obi-Wan stands, asks him if there’s anything they can do for the Commander and what remains of his men,  _ four, four of them, _ takes his arm and pulls him to a stand. Cody’s still a little lost in thought, as he allows his armour clasps to be undone, Obi-Wan stripping him of the physical signs of his rank first. He breathes a little easier once he’s just in his blacks, able to feel Obi-Wan’s heat and pressure as he’s squeezed into a hug. Clinging tightly he pulls himself back into focus, stands a little straighter, and looks Obi-Wan in the eye. “ _ Vor entye _ ,” he repeats. Obi-Wan ducks his head, placing the pieces of plastoid in neat array next to the desk ready for tomorrow.

A sigh escapes, before Obi-Wan takes his hand. There are forms that need doing, not least that one of their battalions will need restocking. Because that’s what the form was. GAR-0792.ii, ‘Requisition form 92.ii: Restocking of trooper ranks [clone]’. At this point it’s probably less work to disband the 104th and reassign the  _ four, four of them _ to a new battalion, but Cody won’t do that. Not unless he’s asked, and he hasn’t been. 

They’ll always be the Wolfpack, the 104th, they’ll carry the name for their brothers who’ve marched on. The 104th won’t be forgotten. 

“Come to bed with me?”

And Cody nods, because he’s not sure he’ll make it through any forms tonight. There’s a bottle of something that Wooley had created, and it can’t be  _ that _ bad because he had been grumbled at that it was fermented, not distilled, as he’d swiped it. CO’s privilege. If he stays here he knows the bottle’s coming out of the foot locker and the sensible part of him knows it’s a bad idea. He takes Obi-Wan’s hand, is led down the hallways until they reach Obi-Wan’s quarters. Nobody interrupts them, even passes them, and Cody suspects there’s some Jedi business going on there. 

Once inside the room Obi-Wan guides him to the bunk and sits him down. Bent over, taking off Cody’s boots, he’s beautiful in the low safety lighting. Cody is suddenly swept up in how much he loves this man. The smile that grows on Obi-Wan’s face tells him that he projected that one. He doesn’t find it in him to care. He’s pulled to a stand as his blacks are removed. His limbs feel heavy and unresponsive as he tries to help, sluggish in his movements to take off the bodyglove. With a flop he’s back on the mattress, looking up at his  _ uvet _ , his  _ kar _ .

Obi-Wan strips off his armour, boots, and robes, gets down to his under-tunic and leggings. He sits next to Cody on the bed and kisses him on the cheek softly. A hand on his thigh and then Cody is falling, falling back against the walls that frame the bunk. Obi-Wan laughs quietly and joins him, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, fingers falling into his short curls. Cody manages to shuffle down the bed and turns his body in towards Obi-Wan, whose fingers have begun stroking his hair. He feels exhausted, like his crying has physically drained him, but he’s still trying to stay awake. 

A  _ shhh _ murmured against his temple, Obi-Wan’s other hand coming to rest on his hip rubbing circles into his skin. He can feel Obi-Wan’s heartbeat; hear his breathing strong and true; smell the light soap he used as well as the earthier smell that was just  _ Obi-Wan _ ; taste the salt from his own tears; and he struggles to keep his eyes open as he takes in his bedfellow. They don’t - can’t - spend every night together, and this new part of their relationship as General and Commander, Jedi, and Clone, as friends, as lovers, is still so special to him. His heart beats a little quicker in his chest, a warmth clutching at him and he thinks on how lucky he is. 

His distress from earlier isn’t totally gone, won’t be for a long time, he’ll remember the briefing and the  _ four, four of them _ every time he does his remembrances, but he’s calmer now. Obi-Wan’s presence this evening has calmed him and as his eyes close he feels the warmth of lips against his forehead. A hand still stroking through his hair, the last thing he hears as he slips asleep is, “ _ jat’ _ _ vercope _ ,  _ ner cyare _ .” 

He’d not want a day like this again, but this? This he could keep.

**Author's Note:**

>  _vor entye_ , thank you; _uvet_ , world; _kar_ , star; _jat’vercope_ , dream well (lit. good dreams [my own work]); _ner cyare_ , my love. Other Mando’a should be commonly found, but I can translate as needed.


End file.
